You can't get a cold on sunny days
by Emerald-Water
Summary: my first try on Weechester, I think it's been done a 100 times, so that would make this 101. Tag to "Something wicked" Sammy/Dean/John - Enjoy!


This is an idea I came up with, while writing a particular part of my other story "harvest".  
It probably has been done a 100 times, so I beg your pardon you have to read it a 101 time ;)  
It's a little tag to "Something wicked"... and my first try on Weechesters.  
Any comments are welcome ;)

Lee

* * *

**You can't get a cold on sunny days**

It was a warm and sunny day, but not if you looked into the faces of his dad and brother.

Sam stood at the booth in the small diner, they had stopped for breakfast. His arms rested on top of the table, while his head rested on his arms. He looked at his brother. This was boring!

"Can I go outside now?" he asked for the umpteenth time. He didn't want to sit anymore. There was a small playground right outside. Why wasn't he allowed to go outside.

"You'll get a cold outside." Was Dean's answer. Sam was about to stomp his little foot. He just couldn't understand what the big deal was. He watched his father and his brother, both didn't dare to look the other in the eye. He remembered last night with a slight shudder. His dad had woken him up, by ripping him upright from his bed, hugging him close. They had left the room right then, just getting their stuff into the duffel's and drove all night. Not even one word had been uttered the whole time.

He maybe wasn't as old as his brother, but he soon would go to school, too. He bit his bottom-lip, thinking hard how he could convince his father and brother to go outside and play. Then an idea struck him.

He remembered Dean taking him by his hand and leaving a diner through the backdoor. They had went straight for the car then, their dad coming soon afterwards and they drove away in a hurry. He grinned mischievously. "I have to go to the bathroom."

Dean rolled his eyes at this exclamation, the first time really looking at him. Their father just stared ahead stoically.

"Well, I guess you know how to do it, or do I have to take Baby-Sammy to potty-potty?" Dean picked on him. He was extremely moody today. Sam just shook his head. "No, no… I'm good." And he dashed off.

Dean sat there, staring at his baby brother's retreating back. Something about how this imp was reacting to his teasing just wasn't right, but he didn't hit on it.

"Did he had any trouble this morning?" suddenly their father asked. Dean flinched. It was the first words spoken to him, since the incident last night. "He seemed fine to me, Sir." Dean answered hesitantly. "He looks a little pale to me." John said, concern darkening his features.

"He only slept a couple of hours, Dad." Dean replied. "I'm sure it's nothing. I'd have noticed." His fathers hands connected hard with the wooden table letting Dean flinch again in fright. "Goddammit, Dean! You're not his Dad. Just a couple of minutes later and… and…" John stopped, suddenly drained off all the anger for his son. With a fast movement he was out of his booth, and beside his oldest. Reaching out tentatively, then grabbing the boy and hugging him close. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" he whispered rocking slowly back and fro. "I was just so scared, Dean. You and Sam… this monster… If it had been a couple of minutes later, I'd have lost you both." He felt Dean leaning into his embrace, until suddenly the boy went rigid under John's hand's. "Oh god dad… the backdoor!!"

Dean had fought himself out of his fathers grasp the second he finally understood why Sammy was so eager to go to the bathroom, and why his little brother needed so much time for it.

He pushed open the door of the diner, his eyes coming to a rest on the playground.

Sam wasn't there.

Without wasting any time, he turned around, bypassing his dad and ran for the backdoor of the diner.

Pushing the door open with force he froze, recognizing the wailing sound of his little brother's crying immediately.

Sam was backed up against one of the dumpsters, making himself as small as possible, his crying already hitching in his throat.

With a angry hiss the creature – the Shtriga – turned to him, it's eyes almost shining in amusement when he recognized the second boy from last night. It had followed its victims, having tasted the oh-so-tasty life-force of the younger sibling, smacking at the thought of the taste of the older child. It would feast – now!

Dean felt the same freezing fright he had felt the night before. He saw the creature grasp for his brother's throat and he could hear his dad from behind. He would never be weak like last night. He had sworn it to himself, from the moment they had started their journey to Pastor Jim's.

As in slow-motion, he pulled the knife his father had told him always to keep. He had practised quite some time now, and even if he wasn't perfect... He wouldn't wait for his dad to come for the rescue.

The beast, pried his little brother's mouth open, not caring if he bruised and he could hear the little boy whimper. His own breath came in fast little gasps, the creature turned its head again, smiling a nasty smile. A smile that froze as Dean sent his knife flying in an precise bow.

The Shtriga was fast, but not fast enough, the knife embedding itself below the creatures collarbone. An earthshaking screech followed Dean's hit.

:

It hurt! This little devil had thrown a knife at it. The enraged creature, pulled the knife out, letting it fall, and turned menacing around. With a few fast strides the Shtriga was in front of the boy, grabbing him and hurtled him into the dumpster. It turned around in time, as it heard a weapon being charged.

:

John couldn't believe his own stupidity. How could he have stopped on his way to Pastor Jim. He knew about the Shtriga. He read all what he had found about those supernatural beings. And still, one look at his little ones and he had forgotten all about the ferocity out there.

Without wasting a second he pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three, four times. Every time hitting the monster square in its chest, and his calculation added up. With one final enraged and pained shriek, the Shtriga gave up on it's attack.

John ran over, to his children. He saw Dean pulling himself up into a sitting position, his face screwed up in pain. But his son didn't seem to notice the discomfort. Without hesitation, he scooped Sam up and into his lap; hugging his little brother close to him.

Then John was there, crouching by his sons, seeing the already beginning bruises in his baby-boys face. Sammy turned his head into the crook of Dean's neck, hiccuping quietly, while Dean ran his hands up and down Sam's back in a soothing manner.

"I… just… wanted to go… out… outside and… play." Sam stuttered miserable through tiny sobs. John gently put his hand on Sam's mop of unruly hair. Then, grabbed him under his armpits, lifted him and placed him on his hips, noticing the tremble that went through his small boy.

He then moved his free hand, to offer help to Dean, who struggled to get on his feet. The boy leaned heavy into him, limping badly. "I'll have to look at your back, son." John said, while leading his children, away from the diner and the playground to the waiting car.

And while walking and trying to equal the comfort between his hurt boys, he swore to himself, he would never be weak like that again…

_Sometime later, in the car_

Dean sat almost half asleep. His back was bruised badly from the shoulder blades to his lumbar region. It hurt to sit, but the warmth at his lap made it worth it.

He looked down to see his little brother peering back up at him.

"Dean?" the small boy asked him in a loud whisper. "What Sammy? Why aren't you asleep?" he asked back, seeing their dad watching them through the rearview mirror.

"It was sunny." Sammy told him. Dean raised his eyebrows. "I beg your pardon?" he asked not understanding. "It was sunny and warm, Dean." Sammy tried again.

"And?" Dean still didn't know what his brother tried to tell him.

"You can't get a cold if it's warm and sunny, silly." The little boy told him, then snuggled himself closer to his brother, closing his eyes.

From the front, Dean could hear his father suppress a chuckle.

**FIN**

Hope you liked it. TC


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